Midnights First
by Sephenia
Summary: Nothing had alerted him to the threat drawing ever closer, shielded by the shadows. Don never would have known that anyone else had been on the roof that night if not for the cool blade that slipped in-front of his throat and the icy voice that told him to stand. When Don is taken in the dead of the night, I'ts up to his brothers to save him. But not everything is as it seems.
1. Missing at Midnight

**Disclaimer. I do not own TMNT, as much as I'd like to. A few characters are of my own invention, as is the plot, but other than that, all credit goes to the creaters of TMNT 2003. Please Read and Review. :)**

* * *

Midnight. Known for its silence and serenity. The perfect balm for an overworked mind. It had only been for a few seconds that Donatello slipped outside, enjoying the view from the cold roof and relaxing in the gentle night breeze. Nothing had alerted him to the threat drawing ever closer, shielded by the shadows. He never would have known that anyone else had been on the roof that night if not for the cool blade that slipped in-front of his throat and the icy voice that told him to stand.

Don stood slowly, his fingers itching to grab his bo. The wood shaft still lay at his feet, useless to him now. Leo would be so disappointed. "There's a good turtle," the same ice cold voice came, "Now, walk with me," It was a male voice, cold and crisp yet filled with a youthful energy. It wasn't the shredder, nor Stockman. Who ever it was had too calm a presence to be a mere foot ninja. This was someone completely new.

"Who are you?" Don asked, reaching out to his weapon carefully with his foot. The blade pressed harder into the soft flesh of his throat, drawing a line of crimson that ran over the silver surface. "I would not recommend getting any closer to that weapon,"

A shadow flashed past, vanishing as fast as it appeared. The bo disappeared with it. Don gulped. The man behind him gave a low, humorless laugh. "Surprised, turtle? I have seen many ninja with skill far beyond your own try that very trick. Pitiful really, how predictable you all are." A note of bitterness had crept into the man's voice, leaving Don with an itch to turn and see who his assailant was. "Regardless. This will come later, after we have figured out who lies beneath this mask of yours. For now, we walk."

The blade disappeared from Don's throat and reappeared behind him, pressed against the back of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood, but not enough to cause real damage. "Walk,"

Don took a step forward, his eyes scanning the shadows, seeking both an escape and a possible clue to the man behind him. The darkness blinked back, determined to keep her secrets. "Faster, If you please."

Don sped up slightly, still aware of the presence of the knife on his skin and the blood leaking down from the cut on his throat. Alone, he stood no chance, but if he could reach his shell cell...

They reached the edge of the building and the man called for a halt. Around him, Don could feel the shadows still under the command. Fingers reached up, cold and thin, to tug at the strings of Don's mask. The purple material came away, leaving the turtle feeling naked and exposed to the world. Chill fingers pressed the material to the cut on Don's neck for a few seconds, moping up the blood that had gathered there. "We can't have you bleeding to death, can we turtle."

The world spun as the man twisted Don around to face him. He was taller than Don had expected, with short cropped white hair. His eyes were hidden behind heavily tinted glasses. In the dark of the night, Don could make out the faint trace of a scar, stretching up from the mans lip and disappearing behind the lenses. The mans clothes were pristine. A black suit that blended perfectly with the night. Beneath the black, the white of an undershirt, broken only by the thick, grey tie stood out.

The man placed a cold finger under Don's chin, forcing him to look up. With his other hand, he raised his glasses and peered at the wound. His eyes were pale, but in the darkness, Don could not decide on the colour. The scar he had noticed before stopped just short of the mans eye, forming a pale crescent shape across his youthful face. The man appeared to come to a decision. "It's just a scratch," he said, dabbing at the forming beads of blood, "It will heal without aid."

The man released the mask, allowing the wind to snatch it and send it drifting back across the building behind them. Without much warning, Don was spun back around. "Now," the knife returned to its position against the back of Don's neck. "Enough playing around. Let us continue."

* * *

New York city is a different place after dark. The streets are death traps, the shadows watch you and unspeakable things creep closer with every step. Don stood alone, the alley way was void of movement, but his training told him different. He closed his eyes, trying to remove the distraction of sight. A cat yowled somewhere close by. The breeze scraped discarded littler across the damp concrete floor. Wind chimes sang from within the open window of a little shop to the right. Nothing else moved.

Don felt a shiver creep through him, standing exposed in the claustrophobic alleyway. The man had lead him across the rooftops, a ghost like presence stalking behind. They had walked until the bitter cold of the wind had numbed Don's senses and he was only barely aware of the city moving by. Without words, the man had then guided him to abandon the rooftops and jump down into the alleyway where he now stood. The knife had disappeared. Don waited, but nothing came. He turned a cautious eye around to peer into the darkness behind him. The cold, empty darkness.

Instinctively, he had reached for his shell cell, hope of escape flaring in his chest and warming his numb limbs, but the device was gone. His hope spluttered out like a dying flame. The cold returned.

It was a feeling, rather than an actual, logical sense. Don opened his eyes. The man stood, just inches from him. A combination of the night gloom and the mans impenetrable shades rendered his expression unreadable. There was a shift in the shadows behind him. He didn't need to turn to know that the hidden people had returned. "Come," the man said, his voice still colder than the night air around them. Don obeyed, following the silhouette until he came to a stop at the brick ending of the alley way. To Don's amazement, the wall opened, like a door of sorts. He found himself wondering about the technology of the door. The man pulled him inside and the door shut behind them. Lights flickered on, blinding don before he could block them out. The man gave a smile. "Now then. Lets begin with something easy. What is your name?"


	2. Dawnlight Discovery

**Still don't own TMNT. I really wish that turtles had ears, even though that would look weird. Read and Review please.**

* * *

The man sat inches from his face, peering into his eyes. His expression was unreadable, his eyes impenetrable ice. Don shifted under the scrutiny, casting his gaze to every corner of the tiny room in an attempt to escape it. There were dull grey curtains covering a small window. Lines of dawn light peered through cracks and tears in the curtain, illuminating the dust in the stale air. Piles of books lay everywhere, some opened, others torn to shreds and discarded on the concrete floor. But no matter where Don looked, his eyes always came back to the man. No bindings held him to the chair, yet somehow he could not move. He felt a trickle of sweat slide down his face.

"What is it you want," Don squeaked, unable to handle the silence any longer. The man leaned slightly closer."You wear no mask, Donatello." It was a quite statement. Don nodded, shifting back his chair an inch.

"Use your voice. I have no intent on causing you harm yet."

Yet. The word lingered in Don's mind, growing ever louder until it became a constant thrum. Yet. What exactly did that mean? Seconds ticked by. The man didn't move.

"Who are you?" Don burst out finally, "Why did you bring me here? What do you want?"

The man held up a hand, his calm demeanor silencing the turtle. Don snapped his mouth shut and turned away.

"I am Laurel. I brought you here for a reason I refuse to say. Not yet."

There it was. That word again. Yet.

Don cast a longing look at the dark wood of the door. It was probably locked from the outside. Laurel was thin, but not for a second did Don think he could take him down. He was too calm, too composed. It reminded him too much of Splinter. Besides, who ever had been hiding in the shadows on the journey here was probably outside the door. There was a silence between them. Eventually, Laurel smiled. "Enough talk, I am sure you are hungry and tired, no?"

Don nodded silently.

"Your voice, Donatello."

"Yes," The turtle stuttered, staring into his lap. Laurel clicked his fingers twice then stood and left the room. Don watched his retreat, confused. The dark wood door closed and locked with a click, leaving Don feeling claustrophobic in the cramped space. He shifted, trying to ease his discomfort.

Laurel had not been gone a minute before a sickly sweet odor flooded the air, blocking Don's throat and making him gag. He covered his face waving one hand in the air. The smell found its way past his fingers into his lungs. He coughed, and gasped, trying to expel the chemical. Another time, Don may have wondered about the chemical compound. He might have marveled at its strategy. But as a wave of dizziness passed through him and panic flared, the only thing he wanted was the smell to leave. He was suffocating. The world tipped sideways, sending Don, and the chair, crashing to the floor. The world was fading fast. He blinked up at the ceiling, only faintly aware of Laurel standing over him. His lips were moving, but the sound was dulled, as though Don was listening from under water. Black fog crept in from the sides of his vision and slowly, the world faded into darkness.

* * *

Far above the sewers, sunrise spilled across the cityscape, flooding the land with colours and light. For many, it was the time to rise. For the more fortunate of people, it meant nothing. They could just sleep on through it. Mikey groaned, wishing he was one of those people. Or turtles. He opened his eyes and peered though the gloom of the lair. Everything was cast in the blue glow of the T.V set that he had left on from the night before. It was still paused on a dramatic scene. The hero of the movie was just inches from the finishing blow. Mikey grinned and sat up, sweeping the mountain of crumbs and popcorn off himself onto the floor. The movie was paused at his favorite part. " Michelangelo, if you are awake, you are welcome to clean your mess." Mikey jumped at the sound of Splinter's voice, cold calm and quiet as usual. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head , "Sorry Master splinter,"

Mikey stood up, searching for his master with his gaze. The rat was sitting, legs crossed, eyes closed in the center of the floor. Beside him, Leo was silently imitating the position. He could hear Raph pummeling the life out of his punching bag. No one was paying attention to him. He smirked. With a sweep of his foot, the youngest turtle pushed the mess of food under the couch. "Done," Mikey sang, sounding way too pleased with himself.

"Then perhaps you may invest your time in training," Splinter said quietly, without moving.

"Yeah. And wake Donnie up!" Raph called from the other side of the lair, "He's been sleeping long enough!"

Mikey gave him a thumbs up, waking people up happened to be his specialty. He marched to the doorway, clearing his throat.

"Yo Donnie boy, time to get your shell outta bed!" Mikey sang as loudly as he could, poking his head into the silence of Don's room. He glanced at the bed. Apart from ruffled bed sheets, there was no sign of his brother in the room at all. He shook his head, strolling over to Don's lab. "Donnie!" he called, peering into the emptiness, "You have a bed for sleeping in," No reply. Mikey frowned. The lab was as empty as the bedroom.

"Is he coming or not?" Raph growled, sending his fist into his punching bag.

"He's not here,"

Raph stopped punching his already abused bag, Leo opened one eye and peered at Mikey from the ground whilst Splinter remained still.

"What do you mean, he's not here?" Raph asked.

"I mean, he's not here." Mikey said with a shrug.

Leo sighed, breaking his stance. He stood and walked to Don's room. Raph came to stand beside Mikey. "Did he leave a note or something?" Raph asked, rummaging around the lab.

"Not that I could see,"

"There's nothing in his room either," Leo said, coming to join them at the lab.

"Why the shell would he go somewhere without telling us? Its not like him," Raph growled, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, that's your thing," Mikey quipped, earning a hard stare from Leo and a smack from Raph.

"Maybe he went for a dump run?" Leo suggested, "I'll call him."

Leo pulled his shell cell out and called his missing younger brother. A ringing sound, loud in the sewer silence, echoed into the lair from the tunnel just outside. Raph shoved past his brothers, striding out into the gloom beyond the lair, his fingers wrapped around a sai. The tunnel was empty, save for the tiny, green device ringing loudly on the floor.

Raph snarled, drawing his sai, "I don't like this,"

Leo hung up the phone and collected the device from the sewer floor. The ringing sound stopped, leaving an uneasy silence between the three brothers. It was broken by Raph smashing his fist into the tunnel wall.

"Raph, you need to calm down," Leo's voice barely reached him.

He smashed the wall again.

"Calm down?" Raph growled, "How the shell am I supposed to calm down when my brothers gone MIA?"

Mikey wrung his hands, shifting from foot to foot. "I dunno Raph. Maybe he dropped his shell cell but didn't realize?" he suggested.

"Yeah, right! Donnie's practically attached to his technology. Something's wrong!"

"My sons, what has happened to your brother?" Splinter called from the lair.

"He's gone, master Splinter, Leo answered, guiding his fuming brother back into their home, "We don't know where."

"Why are we wasting time here?" Raph snapped, "We need to start looking."

"I know Raph, but this isn't helping. We need to figure out a plan-" Leo started, his voice calm.

Raph cut him off with a snarl."Well I've got a plan," he snapped, "We quit talking and start looking for Donnie!"

There was silence in the lair as the Turtles and their master shared a pained look.

Raph stared between them, his eyes narrowed.

"Fine then. If you guys wanna sit around talking all day, I'm gonna go find my brother,"

"Raph! Not the time to be hot headed. Bedsides, it's too close to daylight." Mikey said, concern colouring his voice.

"No, it's okay," Leo cut him off, "Raph, you go. Ring if you find something. Stay out of trouble and don't let anyone see you."

Raph nodded, running a finger over a sai. "If trouble finds me-"

"You'll call,"

"Yeah, sure thing Fearless," It was impossible to miss the sarcasm in Raph's voice as he turned and darted from the lair. Two turtles and their sensei watched him go. "And then there were three," Mikey muttered.


	3. The Rage of Rapheal

**Happy new year everyone! My new year resolution is to somehow gain the rights to TMNT 2003. It probably wont happen, but hey, I can dream. Anyway, read and reveiw please. :)**

* * *

Laurel watched through a tiny window beside the door as the turtle creature swayed in his chair, the effects of the drug beginning to show. The room was small, so the chemical would work quickly. It always had.

The turtle covered his face, waving at the air before collapsing onto the ground.

"Boss?" Laurel ignored the voice of a shadow beside him. For all their stealth, none of the shadows seemed to possess patience.

"Boss? Is that enough gas? Is he out yet?" the shadow persisted.

Laurel waited few seconds more, watching in silence as the turtle finally stopped moving and sprawled flat onto the ground. "Stop," he said, "Aerate the room. He's ready."

There was a faint whirring noise as vents opened in the room to drag the gas out. "It should be safe now, boss." the shadow said quietly, after a few minutes of waiting.

Laurel pressed the door open. A wave of cool air hit him as he stepped into the room. Faint traces of the gas remained, clogging his nostrils with its sickly sweet odor. He held a hand over his face and walked towards the turtle's still form. A pair of terrified eyes stared up at him from the floor. "I am sorry, Donatello." he said gently, "This is the only way to guarantee the truth."

The turtle's eyes turned dull, he blinked up at Laurel blank and expressionless. "Climb into your chair, Donatello." Laurel said carefully. The turtle obeyed, standing like a weak child and stumbling back into his chair. Laurel leaned back, his arms folded. Once he was sure he had the turtle's attention, he cleared his throat. "Lets start with something simple. What is you're name?"

"Donatello," the turtle answered obediently. Laurel turned and nodded at the two shadows out side of the room. They nodded in return. The chemical had worked. The turtle would tell them anything. He turned back to face him.

"Okay, Donatello. Are there anymore like you?"

"Yes. I have three brothers." he answered immediately, staring straight forward.

"Their names?"

"Leonardo Raphael and Michelangelo."

Laurel clicked once. A shadow opened the door to the room and stuck his head inside. "Leonardo Raphael or Michelangelo? Any sound familiar?"

The shadow shook his head, "His name was different."

Laurel nodded, then gestured for the shadow to leave. Only when the door had clicked shut did he continue."Where did you come from?"

"We were mutated."

"What do you know of.." Laurel paused, taking a glance at the two shadows stalking outside the room. He leaned in closer, "What do you know of Kess?"

The turtle frowned, the confusion evident in his eyes. Laurel sighed and took a step back."He knows nothing." he muttered to himself.

Laurel clicked his fingers, summoning his shadows into the room. " He is not involved. We were wrong. Take him to the medic, when he wakes, call me."

* * *

What does Leo know? Raph couldn't keep the thought from him mind. He launched himself to the next roof, keen eyes scanning the cityscape for even the slightest sign of his brother. He's so wrapped up in his planning he cant even be bothered actually looking. Raph skidded to a halt, frustration building in him. The city refused to give up its secrets and dawn was already upon him.

Raph growled, clenching his fists. "Ill find ya, Donnie," he muttered to the wind.

The breeze picked up, sending something smooth and cold flying into the back of Raph's leg. His sai were drawn in a second and he whipped around, dropping into an attack stance. Behind him, there was nothing but the cold morning air.

Raph growled, tucking his sai away. He glanced down at his leg. In the faint light of dawn, it appeared as just a bit of stray material, fraying at the edges, perhaps blown from the dump, but Raph knew better. He picked it up and studied it. The purple of Donnie's mask was marred with dark stains. Blood. Fury pumped through him. Someone out there has a death wish.

He snatched out his shell cell and called Leo, who answered almost instantly. "Raph? Did you find something?"

"Yeah," Raph growled through the phone-line, "Somebody hurt Donnie." He ran his thumb over the purple material.

"Is he with you?" Leo's voice was calm and collected.

"No. Found his mask. Covered in blood. I'm gonna find who did this. And I'm gonna kill them."

"Raph, come home-" Raph hung up the phone, taking angry, ragged breaths. He let out a feral cry, and clutched the mask tighter. "Tonight, I will find you Donnie!" he promised. The sun peeked over the horizon and Raph disappeared back into the shadows to await the night.

* * *

"Ugly, isn't it?" a voice far away asked, earning a grunt inches away from Don's face. He kept his eyes shut tight though every muscle was tense. He could feel that his wrists and ankles were bound to a soft surface that held him in laying flat.

"I think I preferred it with the mask," the man closest to Don spoke, sending a gust of foul breath into the turtle's face. As hard as Don tried, he couldn't help but cough. The speaker stiffened. Funny how you can tell when somebody stiffens.

"So it's awake then?" The man farther away spoke. Don could practically hear him grinning.

"It would seem,"

Another cough forced itself from Don's throat.

The far away man laughed. "I don't think he likes your breath, Hale,"

The man called Hale just grunted in response.

A blinding light suddenly pierced Don's eyes from behind closed lids. He flinched, turning away slightly. Hale laughed. A pair of fingers pried Don's eyes open, forcing him to look at the man leaning over him. Hale was shorter than he had estimated. He was skinny, with shaggy red hair tied behind him in a ponytail. His eyes were as green as sewer water.

"Hello turtle," he grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth, "How are you on this fine day?"

Don didn't respond.

"Not much of a talker, ey?"

Still silent, Don eyed the man. He could definitely take him down. The second he got free...

"It talked before," the man at the back of the room said, dragging Don's attention to him. He was similar in height to Hale, with nut brown hair and a beard. Neither man looked over thirty.

"Well he definitely understands us." Don began to wonder if Hale had ever heard of a toothbrush.

The door to the room squeaked on its hinges and a cold voice rang out from behind it. "I will not have you pestering our guest. Laurels voice was unmistakable. Hale and the other man responded instantly, disappearing from the room like shadows in light.

Laurel appeared beside him, his face passive, "Sorry about the unpleasant experience. We had to ensure you were not in league with an enemy of ours. He, like you, is not like others of this world."

"Who?" Don asked.

Laurel fixed him with a stare. "You do not need to know. He is not you, and the shadows have no record of you and he interacting."

"Maybe I can help you-"

"You can not help. You will be returned home. Thank you for your co-operation and I apologize for the inconvenience." Laurel's voice was icy calm.

The man clicked his fingers once and the two men from before slipped into the room. "Take him home," Laurel instructed. Hale grinned at him from the other side of the room. "Yes boss,"


End file.
